Stories from Africa: Reflections on the Kigali Genocide Memorial

As I planned my trip to the DRC and Ethiopia and discovered that I would pass through Rwanda, I made it my goal to visit the Kigali Genocide Memorial museum. I'm glad I did. It is a very well done exhibit, on par with the Smithsonian. The main floor covers the Rwandan Genocide of 1994. It details the historical background of the Hutus and Tutsis and the political situation leading up to that fateful April. It includes video testimonies of people that survived the massacre, plus a sacred room filled with bones and skulls of victims, followed by another room with photographs of victims brought in by family members. There are several places to sit and ponder. Upstairs are exhibits about other recent genocides - the Armenian, Cambodian, Bosnian, the Holocaust, etc. Besides being a memorial, it's purpose is to be a site of learning...to prevent future genocides.

This is what stood out to me. On that night when it started in April, 1994, barricades were set up all over Kigali. Kigali is a very hilly city, urban, approximately 800,000 people. Where can you flee when that kind of madness sweeps through? There was no where to go, no obvious place to escape to. There were stories of Hutus who hid Tutsis to save their lives. One lady who had a reputation of being crazy hid people in her house. When authorities came by to search her house, she pretended to absolutely lose her mind. The authorities left without searching her house and the people hidden inside remained safe. Another man who feared that the Tutsis would attack the Hutus pre-genocide had dug a series of trenches in his field. He ended up hiding Tutsis in the trenches, covering them with boards, then a layer of dirt, and then finally planted sweet potatoes in the dirt. I guess there were secret access points for him to get them food and water. And they were saved. Then there was a story about a boy who was fleeing for his life, and saw another boy, injured, lying on the ground. He debated picking him up and carrying him to safety. He even knew his name. But then a car full of Hutus drove up and men got out of the car and started chasing him. He ran. He hid, and then to his horror saw the Hutu men beat to death the boy he chose not to help.

The decisions these people made to help or not to help had to be made in a split second. Would I have looked to the interest of my neighbor before my own? I am under no delusion to say that I would. But it made me consider that these split-second decisions are character-based...based on personal character that is developed over the years by small and seemingly unimportant decisions that are made everyday. Hmmm...